


Stacked

by darlingargents



Series: Season of Kink Bingo 2020 [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Comeplay, Community: seasonofkink, Consensual Underage Sex, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Idiots in Love, Library Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24534229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingargents/pseuds/darlingargents
Summary: Gretta wants to fuck in the library. Stan obliges.
Relationships: Gretta Keene/Stanley Uris
Series: Season of Kink Bingo 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773196
Comments: 15
Kudos: 20





	Stacked

**Author's Note:**

> For the Season of Kink bingo square: **Wall or desk sex**. Underage means they're teenagers, no age stated but probably 16/17.

The first time Gretta had suggested it, Stan had shut it down instantly. They were already on thin ice with their respective parents while being the model of an acceptable teenage couple (in public, at least) — if they got caught fucking in a library and arrested for public indecency, Stan’s pretty sure he’d never be allowed to see Gretta again. But the thing with Gretta is that she is very good at wearing Stan down. It’s why they’ve stopped wearing condoms (“I can steal birth control pills, it’s fine.”) and started fucking while Stan’s parents are home (“Gag me if you’re so worried about it. Jesus, Stan.”)

So it only takes about two weeks, from the first time she mentioned it post-coitally to walking into the library hand in hand. Stan’s palms are sweating, and as they pass the reference library’s desk, Gretta lets go of his hand and wipes it on her skirt.

“You’re such a pussy,” she says under her breath as they head to the Adult section. She pretends to examine the books, picking up a book of Shakespeare’s poetry. She shifts on her feet, and Stan can tell, just by being in her general vicinity, that she’s ready to go.

The basement has a section of rarely accessed reference books. The chance of anyone coming in and seeing them is slim. It will probably be just fine.

Stan wipes his own sweating palms on his jeans. As he’s told Gretta before, he doesn’t have the advantage of subtle public arousal, so he thinks non-sexual thoughts as she flips through the poetry book, trying to stop himself from getting hard. Gretta is wearing a short skirt, the long lines of her legs visible, and he knows she’s not wearing underwear, because when he drove them over, she’d casually taken his hand and pushed it up between her legs. She’d already been wet, two of Stan’s fingers sliding inside her without a problem.

He needs to stop thinking about that. He coughs, and turns around to head down to the basement. He’s sure he can feel her amusement from behind him as she follows.

The room is, as always, empty. The moment they’re in the corner, their view of the door totally blocked, Gretta slams him against the shelves and kisses him. Violent kisses are her specialty: teeth digging into his lip, blunt nails scraping through his hair as she pushes herself against him. Stan grabs her hip in one hand and her ass in the other, over her skirt, and she moans, rocking her hips against his. He doesn’t have to stop himself from getting hard, now, and when she undoes his belt and slides a hand into his jeans, he’s already half-hard in her hand.

Her hand is cold and dry, but it warms up quickly as she pumps him expertly, getting him ready, kissing him with just as much attention as she does so. She’s gotten good at it, as good as she is at sucking dick; she takes every insult to her abilities as a challenge, and Stan has happily taken advantage of that. When he’s good and hard, Stan squeezes her ass once more, and she makes a startled noise into his mouth as he takes his hand away and spins them around, pushing her up against the bookshelf.

Gretta pulls her hand out of his jeans as he undoes them and shoves them down to his knees, along with his underwear. And then he grabs two handfuls of her ass and lifts her up, pushing her hard against the shelf. It shakes a little as she slams into it with a startled gasp, a book teetering above their heads.

“Show-off,” she says, and Stan grins, leaning in to kiss her before pulling back and lifting up her skirt. She’s wetter, now, enough that he can see her dripping. She tightens her knees around his hips, her hands squeezing his upper arms, and Stan lets her go with one hand to grab his dick and slide it inside her.

They both gasp as he gets inside her, and he has to rest his head against her shoulder for a second, overwhelmed. She’s unbelievably hot and wet and tight, clenching around his dick as her thighs dig into his hips, the sound of her shaking breaths only making it better. The idea that anyone could walk in, that anyone could see them, is going straight to his dick in a way he never would’ve thought it would. Stan stays there for a long moment until she kicks him, her heel jabbing into his ass.

“Fuck me, you bitch,” she says, and he laughs, adjusting his grip on her.

There’s one thing that Stan is very sure of: he’s a good lay. He knows this because Gretta is not and never will be quiet with her disappointment. She would be deeply offended by the concept of faking an orgasm. If Stan can’t get her off at least twice, she tells him he failed. At the beginning, he wasn’t as good at it. He certainly is now. She wouldn’t accept anything less.

So when he lines himself up and fucks her, he knows there’s nothing fake about the way her eyes roll back in her head and her thighs tremble around him. Her head thumps back against the shelf, and each thrust sends her into it, rocking all the books. A smaller volume goes flying off and lands by Stan’s foot, and he ignores it, adjusting his stance to get deeper inside her. She’s clenching around him as he thrusts, her cunt tight and slick enough that it’s frictionless. Stan knows he’s not going to last long.

Her nails start to dig hard into his shoulders after maybe three minutes and she starts making noises in her throat, which is how Stan knows she’s close. Normally this would be when he would be giving her clit more attention, but his hands are otherwise occupied, so she lets go of one shoulder and goes for it herself, flipping up her skirt as she does so. It gives Stan a view of himself sliding in and out of her pink cunt, and it’s probably the best thing he’s ever seen.

She rubs her clit with vigour for thirty seconds or so before her whole body seizes up, her cunt clenching desperately around Stan’s cock. He buries himself in her as her legs shake and her head falls back against the shelf. She slaps her non-occupied hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, and the choked-down sounds combined with the clenching sets Stan off too, his vision almost whiting out as he comes inside her with a few more short thrusts, his hands digging into the flesh of her thighs as he tries to keep her held up as his legs go wobbly under him.

As the aftershocks fade, he leans his head against her shoulder, breathing hard as he softens inside her. She’s still breathing too fast, but she kicks him again, more gently now. They’re both a lot kinder to each other when they’ve just gotten off.

“Put me down,” she whispers, and Stan obliges, letting her down. She rocks on her feet a bit and adjusts her skirt, breathing hard. “ _Fuck_.”

Stan grins, trying to pretend he’s not shaking on his own legs. “Good?”

“Of fucking course it was, dipshit. And now I’m gonna be dripping your jizz walking out of here. Nice.”

A new approach, it seems. Stan rolls his eyes and drops to his knees. She grins down at him as he lifts her skirt and ducks his head underneath, and she spreads her legs and leans back against the shelf, allowing easier access.

She’s still soaking wet, and his come is mixed in with her fluids on his tongue as he licks into her. She gasps, and he hears her slap a hand over her mouth as he pushes his tongue in and in, dragging it back out. He realizes that he’s eating his own come out of her, and — well, it’s not like he’s never done it before. Usually he gets Gretta off with his mouth before they fuck, but after isn’t unheard of. This, however, is new — doing it with her standing, doing it where anyone could walk in.

He licks around her cunt, cleaning her up, avoiding her clit, until she reaches down to bury a hand in his curls, a not-so-subtle warning. He moves his tongue until he finds her clit by feel, his tongue flicking across it, and she gasps again as he flicks it over and over before wrapping his lips around it and sucking it into his mouth. He reaches up with one hand to slide two fingers inside her, a come-hither motion in time with flicks of his tongue, and he feels her clench around his fingers as she comes a second time, the hand in his hair tightening and pulling hard.

He licks her through it, soft and gentle, until she gives a tug on his hair to pull him up. He pulls out his fingers and wipes a hand across his face before standing. She’s red-faced and looks entirely fucked out, which he supposes was exactly the plan.

Stan ducks down to kiss her, and she lets him, smiling into it. Seeing her smile is still rare enough that he treasures every time.

“Good job,” she says, and takes his hand. “Clean up your face.”

“Love you too,” he says. He’s said it before, but it never stops feeling important.

She rolls her eyes, and squeezes his hand. “Love you.”


End file.
